


The Garden of Unearthly Delights

by EmpressMermalaid



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Age Difference, Brothels, Daddy Kink, M/M, Prostitution, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5364839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressMermalaid/pseuds/EmpressMermalaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daiki Aomine is a wealthy man in a future where anything goes. After the death of his mother, his vow to make her wish come true posthumously brings him to a chance encounter with a young man who will change his life in more ways than one. </p><p>Ryouta Kise is a man for sale in a future where anything goes. His first day on the job looks set to be a disaster, and it's no small miracle he manages to catch the eye of a well suited benefactor.</p><p>What they both don't realise is how much they've both needed each other until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Another NaNoWriMo 2015 production! 
> 
> This just started in my head as a pressing desire to write an Aokise Daddy Kink AU, and somehow evolved into a futuristic, classical brothel AU and honestly I just really like the direction things took of their own accord. With that being said – enjoy!
> 
> This was supposed to just be a 3000 word drabble featuring some Daddy Kink and a bit of smut, but whether it was desperation to pad my NaNoWriMo word count on the last day before it was due because I was 20K words down, or the fact that my brain genuinely had a good idea for once in its life and ran with it, we shall never know.

Of all the things that were surprising about the future, the liberties of those seeking sexual conquest was probably the most unusual. Movements around the world – rallies, protests, held on the steps of parliament, senators and council representatives homes, where people delivered passionately worded speeches helped shape an empowering future where individuals were free to express themselves in a variety of ways that may have seemed “unethical” in the past. The biggest rejection of any proposal was fears that this would entrap people – that the sex trade would become an even bigger power house of sexual tourism, human trafficking, abuse... but to the surprise of those opposed to the laws, it in fact _improved_ those conditions. When people were free and willing to submit to alternate lifestyles, the taboo was removed completely and the demand for immorally sourced sex workers plummeted. Why force someone into it when you could get the same service from somebody happy – either for free, or a small fee, depending on what it was exactly you were trying to find.

A large house in Kyoto was one such place you could purchase such services. Brothels had become much more public, and much more widely accepted, to the point that _speciality_ brothels were springing up in business and were just as successful, if not more so. Plum trees lined the sloping stone path that lead up to the house, though it was really more of a mansion, it's frame having stood proud for at least a few hundred years. The gold plaque over the door, thinly carved in dainty lettering announced this place as _Teiko Garden of Unearthly Delights_. A tall, handsome man standing on the front steps took a moment to glance at it before ringing the old timey bell that hung by the entrance.

He was greeted by a small, mousey girl with a small nose and slightly too-wide eyes. Her brown hair was cropped short, bordering on boyish, but the long, flowing skirts she wore accentuated her feminine figure.

“Master Daiki Aomine, I presume?” she asked, her voice very solid and matter-of-fact. She reminded him of a sporting coach he had during his youth.

Aomine smiled in the affirmative, his lips pressed into a tight line. It wasn't that he was intending to be unfriendly, it was just a difficult time for him. His work was very high profile, and as such, required a certain attention to detail that did not allow room for much in the way of mistakes. This, naturally, was quite stressful for extended periods of time. Also, his mother had just passed not three weeks previously. The chasm of loss he felt was still as strong as the moment he first heard the news.

The girl who greeted him lead him into the house, offering refreshments of champagne, tea and mineral water. She gladly took his coat when he removed it, no longer requiring a shield from the November chill as the indoors was heated to a warm, balmy degree. He took a long look at the marvellous interior. Wooden columns stood proud in the centre of the foyer, as old as the house itself, small animals and flowers carved up and out of the woodwork. It was quite impressive. He took in a mise en scene of a rabbit chasing a marigold, who in turn was being chased by a wolf, with great interest.

“This way, please,” the greeter girl bowed slightly, directing his attention to an unassuming side door just inside of the hall, the plaque too far away to read at present.

As he drew closer he saw the words _Madame_ engraved in gold, decorated with tiny embossed flower petals. He was leisurely waved inside, the door shut gently behind him. Inside was a spectacular office that instantly filled _him_ with envy, and he was not exactly wanting for impressive architecture at home. Bookcases rose from floor to ceiling, brimming with tomes older than Aomine's grandfather, and other trinkets that were instantly recognisable as valuable gifts from all over the world – clearly tokens of appreciation left by well-wishers and particularly affluent clientele. Their security must be something else entirely, Aomine found himself thinking.

The Madame herself was seated in a low resting arm chair by the bay window, opened out on to the back gardens which were truly another sight to behold. Fruit trees bloomed along twisted paths, and a fountain bubbled merrily at the heart, surrounded by flower beds so brilliant in colour they could be seen from here. It was nothing short of a miracle of modern engineering that the grounds were so well tended to that they continued to thrive despite the cooling climate. The Madame tucked a loose lock of rose coloured hair behind her ear, and put aside the tablet she had been window shopping for a new handbag on. As she rose to her feet and made her way to greet Aomine, she was a vision of grace, surely trained in classical dance with how swift and surely her feet moved beneath her.

“Daiki Aomine,” she began formally, extending a hand to him.

He took it and brought it to his lips, pressing a respectful kiss to her knuckle. She blushed appropriately, though Aomine was sure she was quite used to this treatment.

“Madame,” he finally found his words at last, “it is... an honour to meet with you.”

“Likewise,” her eyes glittered when she talked, her voice as high and crisp as a church bell struck on a blighted winter morning, “I have been looking forward to this meeting for quite some time. I trust you found our establishment with no issue?”

Aomine nodded. It wasn't exactly hard to find – it was an enormous property just outside of city lines. He hardly had to worry about directions anyway, that's what his chauffeur was for.

“Shall we-?” the Madame smoothed down the folds of her artisanal gown, a very expensive looking swathe of lace and embroidery that was surely handmade just for her with how perfectly it draped from her shoulders.

She gestured back out the door from where he had just come. They walked together, a casual wander, as the Madame took him on a brief but deeply engaging verbal tour of the history of the grounds, the industry and the Teiko establishment itself. It was once the home of a wealthy local family, but things took a turn for the worse, as things are wont to do, and the mansion was purchased from them at an “excellent price”, as the Madame phrased it. Soon after, many of the first bills surrounding sexual liberty began to pass, and the house owner – the Madame's late great grandfather – saw an opportunity. It was originally just a mid-range brothel, nothing particularly notable, until the Madame's grandfather saw a more profitable niche in offering a more _classical_ , high-end service to those willing to part with coin for it.

“Which brings us to your visit today...” she chimed pleasantly as she lead him up the grand, ornate staircase at the heart of the home.

“Yes, Madame-”

“Oh please,” she laughed like tinkling glass, covering her mouth with a dainty hand, “call me _Momoi_.”

“Momoi,” he continued, “I trust my... request has been forwarded to you?”

“Oh yes,” they had reached the top of the stairs, and Momoi lead them to the left, towards another long corridor of closed doors, “you wish to make a... permanent purchase today, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Aomine cleared his throat, following her at her side, “I trust this will not be a problem?”

“Not at all,” she declared in her loud, musical voice, “no troubles at all! It is a service we offer and we would be more than happy to assist you today!”

As she finished her sentence, she pushed open the large, heavy, double doors at the end of the hall, and they entered into a ballroom so large and glittering it was almost blinding at first glance. Chandeliers hung so low Aomine could almost touch the crystal ornaments hanging from the points, and candles flickered in artfully placed groups on low standing tables, surrounded by bouquets of flowers so fresh they must have been picked from the gardens outside mere moments before his arrival. An enormous tapestry ran nearly the entire length of the ballroom, in a bronzed frame as thick as his arm, weathered and torn in places – rather than looking decrepit as it should, it only served to make the tapestry look more valuable as it spoke loudly of its ancient, and colourful history.

The room was also completely empty.... for now. Two chaise lounges stood almost comically alone in the middle of the wide, empty, polished floors, so thoroughly waxed you could nearly see your face in them. A small table sat between them, brimming with bowls of fruit and crystal goblets and a very fanciful centrepiece – a vase fashioned into the shape of a Chinese dragon wound around an arrangement of rich, healthy flowers, overflowing with vines and fernery, studded with strategically placed tea light candles that rested on small outcroppings in the ceramic base. It was truly a wonderful art piece. Aomine considered making an offer to purchase _that_ as well.

Momoi settled him in on one of the lounges, pouring him a glass of something that smelt faintly like hazelnut liquor. His favourite. She was good – she had clearly done her research. He had suspected as much. Men like him didn't come to places like this unless they had the bank accounts to match – and people with a certain number of zeroes in their savings were usually accustomed to a particular kind of lifestyle.

The Madame asked him cheerfully to wait and enjoy the spread of exotic fruit and cheeses while she prepared the _feast_ , as she referred delicately to the ensemble of boys and girls she was about to present to her eagerly awaiting client. She rushed away, still gliding assuredly on her feet as though she was a moment's breath away from breaking into dance, and Aomine settled back into the comfort of the faintly cherry perfumed upholstery.

It was a surprisingly short amount of time before she was back, leading a single file line of the most diverse cast of people Aomine had ever seen in one room. She was beaming ear to ear as though she were sharing in Aomine's excitement at this moment, the _moment of truth_ , the moment where he first got to appraise her wares and select his favourite. As shrewd as she was, she was already ticking off a few of her underlings she felt that this man might find particularly appealing.

The prostitutes of Teiko's Garden of Unearthly Delights were more than just pretty faces. All of them possessed other talents in an impressive range of fields – some so far as to even have medical degrees. More commonly though, they were talented in music, or dance, poetry or painting – some were bilingual or trilingual. Some were brilliant writers, while others were talented in a host of sports. One girl's call to fame was her ability to recite obscure historical facts, which may have seemed droll by comparison but she was surprisingly popular with the Kyoto salarymen. All had talents beyond their looks, which just made them all the more attractive _and_ valuable. Momoi knew each of their special talents from memory, though she typically encouraged the boys and girls to tell their clients about it themselves. She was clever – she knew her customers had to enjoy the sound of their purchase's voice and anecdotal vernacular to be a truly successful sale, even for those who were only buying one night and not the person themselves.

Each of the prostitutes came to a stop once they were in an immaculately straight line, looking excited. That was the benefit of the new world order finding sexual exploration a pursuit worth encouraging over punishing – every one here _wanted_ to be here. “Auction days” as they lovingly nicknamed them, were days where wealthy customers would come and actually _buy_ one of them to take home. Usually, most people could only afford a night, and that was a few month's salary for some. They always made it worth their while. Kept them coming back, you know? But these days were always more exciting – they only happened once, maybe twice a year, and any escort worth their salt knew it would be the sweetest gig they'd ever land. Everybody wanted it.

Momoi lead Aomine to the end of the line, with around forty boys and girls of varying height, colour, demeanour laid out before him. They were all nearly nude – Momoi found in past experiences it was much better to cut to the chase with how her boys and girls looked naked. She was learning from the mistakes of her forefathers, who had infamous stories of customers returning angry because their girl had too many freckles on her back, or a lady was sold a muscular beast of a man who did _not_ have the package to match. Far better to lay all cards on the table when it came to these matters so her clients were able to make accurate, informed decisions about _all_ aspects of their goods. Some wore a thin string of jewels around their waist. Others bore jewellery on their neck or wrists – some even wore very thin scarves wrapped endearingly over their hips, allowing just tantalising peeks of what lay beneath. Each was nude enough to see them entirely in the flesh, but dressed in a way that accentuated their individuality and their raw sexuality.

Aomine was surprised to find himself so eager to begin. This sentiment seemed matched by the first girl in the line he came face to face with who was bursting with so much enthusiasm she was all but bouncing on her toes.

“Hi,” she sing songed sweetly, “my name is Alex, and I'm trained in gymnastics and the art of contortion!”

Aomine's eyes roamed down her figure, womanly to a fault, her prominent chest sitting heavily beneath a thin wisp of violet organza. She didn't exactly have the _typical_ flexible athlete's body, but Momoi nodded at his side, verifying the validity of her claims. He was sure she was uhh... very popular. But she was not for him.

Aomine didn't actually know what it was exactly he was looking for. Usually people who had come to purchase either had an individual already in mind, or had a few select criteria which allowed Momoi to narrow down the options to a select few to choose from. Even a gender preference was typically specified. It wasn't often that Momoi had to prepare to have her entire range appear at the same time, it was no wonder every body was excited and having far too much fun with this.

The events that lead Aomine to this very moment were actually very clear. See, Aomine's mother had come from an establishment such as this. Not this one specifically – she was an employee of a far more “budget” love hotel in downtown Osaka, in a ward overlooking the Yodo River. But she loved her work, and often told a young Daiki how much she had always wanted to be a “permanent purchase” for some illustrious business man who would take them both in and give them the lavish lifestyle they deserved. Standing here in a decadent ballroom made those memories almost funny by comparison – his mother's idea of a “lavish lifestyle” was buying the brand name products in the supermarket instead of the generic stuff, and living in a _house_ that had a garage instead of a three tier block of units. But it was an endearing dream, and one she held all through her career until her retirement – she worked for the love hotel long after her prime – only servicing one or two long time customers who still visited her for loyalty and to toast the “good ol' days”. She spent most of her time cleaning the rooms and mentoring the other girls who came in, fresh faced and pretty. She held no contempt for them, she loved her line of work so much she was only eager to help in any way she could.

That is why he was going to honour her memory in a way he knew she would approve of. He was going to buy a prostitute from a brothel, a “permanent purchase”, and fulfil her dream vicariously through another. It filled him with a strange sense of nostalgic warmth whenever he thought about what he was going to do, as though she smiled down upon him and blessed his thoughtfulness.

Aomine met with each of the brothel residents in turn, affording them a good few minutes each to introduce themselves and their talents. He wouldn't lie – some were very eye catching, in either their looks or their passion regarding their specialities. But none felt... right. And he needed them to feel right. He hoped that this entire trip wouldn't end in folly with him returning home empty handed. He would likely just pick someone at random before he allowed that to happen, but he wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of dropping the amount of money he was about to spend on someone who was just _okay-ish_. If he was honest with himself, he kind of had an idea of the type of person he might like, but he was definitely keeping his options open.

All was beginning to look a little lost as he neared the last five or so people in line, who had been very patiently waiting their turn. By now he had been there over an hour, speaking with each individual in turn. He had met some dainty, petite women, and handsome, athletic men, all of whom had stirred a little something in his chest and – more importantly – his pants, but they were all just _not quite right_. That is, until he reached the end of the line. He was speaking with a tall, slender man, who was giving him a rather rousing speech regarding his knowledge of ancient Sino-Japanese conflict and his collection of wartime general figurines when he spotted the boy beside him.

He looked much younger than the rest – by the standards of the Old Ways, he looked barely legal. What was most noticeable about him was, ironically, the way he was trying to make himself _less_ noticeable. He was slowly inching behind the bespectacled man to his side, the one currently talking, and fidgeting as he stared resolutely at the ground. Aomine found that he couldn't wait to hear his story. He waited patiently while the black haired man before him finished his rather knowledgeable and wordy speech, before thanking him profusely for the _thorough_ introduction to both himself and the topic of native history before side stepping, standing before the shy blond boy picking at his fingernails.

He noticed Aomine staring at him and gulped, glancing up from beneath his lashes as though he was trying very hard to mirror the confidence of the others.

“Please excuse this one,” Momoi appeared suddenly at his side, “this is his first day. He may be a little nervous. Say hello, Ryouta.”

The blond smiled, an awkward, cheesy kind of apologetic grin as Momoi pointed out his discomfort.

“O-osu,” he stated in a casual stutter, a flicker of mortification suddenly crossing his brow as though he were mentally kicking himself for being so lame in comparison to the others, “I'm... my name is Ryouta... Kise. I'm seventeen years old and I like lots of stuff.”

Aomine found his innocent discourse endearing. It was hard not to when he was puffing out his chest and setting his face into a hard stare in a bid to mimic the other more comfortable, masculine men who came before him, speaking with such authority and assurance as though they were not eagerly vying to be chosen by this clearly very well off suitor.

“What kind of stuff do you like, Ryouta?” Aomine felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as the blond looked suddenly panicked, like how an introvert feels when being asked to stand up and introduce themselves to the class on the first day of school – as though they had suddenly completely forgotten everything about themselves that was in any way, shape or form memorable or interesting.

“Uhh...” he stammered, scratching his chin thoughtfully, a small bead of sweat forming under his bangs, “umm... w-well... I like lots of things such as stuff like... y-you know... uhh...”

A few of the other prostitutes had begun to lean out of the line to be able to look down at him, watching the train wreck unfold. A few of those crueller at heart stifled snickers into the backs of their hands at his fumbling.

“Take your time,” Aomine urged gently. He found he genuinely wanted to hear what Ryouta Kise had to say for himself.

The small blond took a deep breath, gulping down air so quick its like he had forgotten to be breathing up until this point. He _had_ been forgetting to breathe up until this point, so the reminder to relax was actually quite welcomed.

“Well...” he began again, wrestling his nerves under control, “I like... singing?”

It sounded like a question, but it was certainly better than nothing. He glanced at Momoi behind the tall, dark, handsome client of hers, silently begging her to take over. He wasn't confident in himself enough yet to boast and brag about his talents like the others, he thought it would sound big headed and stupid coming from his own lips. He knew he was a good singer, an _excellent_ singer in fact, but it was difficult to stand here on the spot and profess that to the world. How big headed would that sound? But somebody else, say, Momoi, affirming that notion wouldn't sound so bad...

Luckily, Momoi was a woman of mercy and stepped in to assist, proud of Ryouta for being able to speak up at last, and eager to give him a breather.

“Oh yes,” she gushed, touching Aomine's arm lightly, “Ryouta here is _very_ talented. He's our little songbird, aren't you?”

She smiled warmly at Kise, who flushed but returned a pleased grin.

“He also writes a lot of his own songs – he's very poetic – and is currently teaching himself how to play an instrument. Why don't you tell our guest about your recent progress?”

She passed the ball back into Kise's court, who gladly took it now that some of the heat was off his own back.

“Yeah!” he enthused, forgetting for a moment that he was stark naked save a very decorative belt of hanging coins, shimmying and tinkling softly against his skin, looped around his hips, “I've been learning to play the harp! It's a little outdated, but it's one of my favourite orchestra instruments.”

“A harp?” Aomine found that genuinely interesting.

“Yeah – I just wrote my first song!” Kise's eyes were alight with a thousand things he suddenly really wanted to say to their guest, “... i-it's... not very good.”

He shuffled his feet awkwardly, pursing his lips in the hopes he hadn't made a complete fool of himself. Aomine beckoned to Momoi, who thanked the line up of boys and girls for their time, and sent them back to their regular duties. They instantly broke into chatter, dissipating in scattered patterns until noone was left. A few people glanced back over their shoulders as they left. Aomine didn't miss the fact that Ryouta was one of them.

“So,” Momoi clapped her hands together, beaming with excitement, “how was that?”

Aomine nodded in appreciation, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He was deep in thought about where this conversation was about to head – which of them did he like the most, and was willing to part good money with for.

Of course, Ryouta was the most stand out in his mind, but he feared that was simply because he was the last one Aomine saw, and also that his nerves made him a more prominent feature in his recollection of them all. There were a few other standouts – men and women alike, of varying qualities who had caught his eye more than the others. They were all more experienced, more talented, more self assured, and he mentally ran through an alternate universe for each of the options regarding what life would be like if he was to purchase their company.

But in the end, as charming and lovely as each of those dimensions would be, his thoughts kept straying back to the one person. And that's when he knew he had made his decision.

“It was lovely seeing all you had to offer,” Aomine replied diplomatically, “truly, it was a joy to meet everyone.”

“Have you given much consideration to your final purchase? You don't need to make a decision right away, of course. Take as much time as you need. Some clients in years gone past have taken months to finalise their decision, and you are of course welcome to come back as often as you like to meet with particularly stand out candidates until you are sure you are satisfi-”

“Ryouta,” Aomine interrupted Momoi's waxing lyrical, “I want Ryouta Kise.”

“Really?” she sounded mildly surprised, though her tone was in no way judgemental, “would you care to return to my office to discuss the details?”

“Absolutely,” Aomine returned her smile and they made their way back downstairs to the wonderful office filled with books.

Momoi settled in behind her desk, shuffling papers before beginning to tap away at her computer. She offered Aomine a seat opposite her desk, a fresh cup of tea appearing before him in the hands of the mousey door girl from before. Again, it was milky with a touch of mint, and when he took a sip, he tasted a sprinkling of raw sugar – just how he liked it. He smirked at the pink beauty behind the desk, though she was absorbed in booting up her computer. When it came to canvassing clients she really was something else entirely.

He waited patiently until she had pulled up some very complex looking spreadsheet, and she clapped her hands together primly and turned to face him.

“So!” she chimed, “Ryouta Kise, was it?”

“Yes,” Aomine affirmed. He had been thinking about it in his head while he waited, and the more he dwelled on the idea the more he found that he liked it. He could see Kise settling in very comfortably in his home. He was young too, full of potential. A sponsor like Aomine would see him go far. Aomine felt as though his mother would have really liked the boy.

“Now, were you interested in thinking your purchase over, or would you like to go ahead with me today?”

Her friendly demeanour left no questions that she would be fine with either option – she wasn't a pushy salesperson. She offered the goods and the money came to her regardless.

“Today, I think,” Aomine replied confidently, “what is your procedure?”

Momoi looked delighted.

She spent a great deal of time going over some documents, emblazoned with the fanciful letterhead of the brothel across the top, pointing out certain paragraphs with a feather tipped, pink pen. She left him alone to read a few sections, but then read other parts to him, to confirm every part of the “adoption” system. It was a requirement after the changes all those years ago to ensure the upkeep of ethical due process, but Aomine was used to a great deal of paperwork in his line of employment.

It was quite simply really. Aomine simply had to agree to care for Kise – provide him with reasonable living conditions, don't do anything illegal, agree to pay the brothel the agreed upon price – et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Aomine was still a man within the letter of the law, so he was sure to read over the entire document, especially on such a large purchase such as this. He wanted to know every fine print, every footnote, every single detail of the legal proceedings for such an exchange. To his delight, he found nothing overly problematic, everything seemed to fit how he imagined the process to go, no glaring points that may have made him second guess his decision. It was all very standard.

“Would you like to speak with Ryouta personally?” Momoi offered once they had read the paperwork.

Aomine hadn't asked for what this was going to cost him yet. Honestly, if you had to ask... you couldn't afford it. And he certainly could. He'd already made his decision and he knew he had enough discretionary spending behind him that he could probably buy ten of their best without breaking a sweat.

“I would – shall I give him the good news personally?” Aomine got to his feet, straightening his cuffs.

“Yes – of course! I'm sure he'd love to hear it from you,” Momoi gushed.

She lead them back through another rabbit warren of hallways until they came to a part of the house where many of the doors were closed, but looked the same. They had no plaques on them. Aomine got the vibe that this was a more living-quarters part of the mansion instead of an “entertaining” part of the home.

The Madame stopped suddenly in front of a door that looked like the other five along the same wall. She knocked curtly.

“Ryouta?” she called out, “may I speak with you a moment?”

Unbeknownst to the two outside the door, Kise was having a minor panic attack from the moment Momoi knocked on his door. He was still kicking himself about how stupid he'd acted in front of their guest. His first day, and he'd made a complete fool of himself. In front of _everyone_! Now they all knew he was a shy little wreck. They were already probably talking behind closed doors about him – he'd heard some of their muted sniggers when he was tripping over his words earlier. And now there was a knock at his door suddenly and he was being asked to step out to speak with the House Mistress herself.

He was _so_ fired.

He didn't exactly know what happened to people in his situation who got laid off. He wasn't sure it happened all that regularly. Oh great, he was the first whore in the world to be _fired_ for being a socially awkward reject--

He pulled the door open, his face grim as though he were about to take a walk to his own funeral. Aomine stood off to the side, so he didn't see him at first. All he saw was Momoi standing in his doorway and... smiling at him?

“Ryouta!” she trilled, delighted, “I have something to discuss – would you care to take a moment...?”

Kise panicked harder. Momoi's happiness only served to make him more nervous – why was she so happy to be firing him? Unless he was that useless and she was finally going to be rid of a burden with a decent enough reason to shove him out on the streets to fend for himself. What cruelty. What a dark woman, smiling in the face of a man she was leading to a proverbial guillotine.

“Hello, Ryouta.”

Kise was too busy keeping his eyes to the ground, looking appropriately sombre in preparation for accepting his fate that he hadn't noticed they weren't alone. His eyes snapped up in shock, to see the handsome guest from before standing a few paces to the side, looking casual, his voice smooth and deep when he greeted the teenager.

“Umm... h-hello...” he mumbled.

Oh great, he thought, now they've brought the guest back to tell me off himself. He wished they would just give him the bad news and put him out of his misery. He didn't think his fragile ego could deal with the ordeal of being put through this kind of public trial. He was very glad the other boys were all still in their rooms or out on the equestrian ride he knew they held weekly that he hadn't had the pleasure of being invited to yet.

“Ryouta, Master Aomine wishes to have a few words with you.”

Momoi encouraged him out into the hall, a hand in the small of his back, guiding him towards the other man. Kise was fully clothed now, and Aomine admired his fashion sense. For a teenager, he was certainly quite capable in pulling together an ensemble that accentuated his better features, all without toting a single brand label. Aomine began to day dream about what he'd be able to do with a bigger budget – seeing him decked in Louis Vuitton, Yves St Laurent, Givenchy... he would be simply magnificent. Meanwhile, Kise was fidgeting again.

 _Master Aomine_.

It sounded so... so _fancy_ , Kise thought to himself.

He also wished that they would just get this over and done with already. He was dying enough as it was.

“Shall we?”

Aomine held out a hand to the blond, who looked incredibly puzzled but took it none the less. He really was a terrible whore – just holding hands like this had a faint blush rising up the back of his neck, colouring his face to match, and his heart grew fluttery in an instant.

The taller man lead them down the corridor to a lovely atrium – a wall of glass window panes over looking the grounds and decorated with enough hanging pot plants and ferns that a slight sheen of humidity left moisture residue on the glass, fogging slightly in the sudden climate change. Momoi had given him directions to where they may speak in private, if they wished. The pink haired Madame had disappeared, though Aomine had no doubts she would pop up again when the timing was convenient and her serves and input may have been required again.

“Will you step outside with me? I would like to talk to you.”

Kise nodded mutely at Aomine's suggestion, glad for the thick sweater he was already wearing. Aomine threaded their fingers together tighter, and guided him outdoors. The crisp chill in the air hit them abrasively, stinging at the tips of their noses. Kise's eyes watered slightly.

“I just wanted to say...” Kise was brave for once in his life and acted preemptively to the nightmare he was sure he was about to go through, “I'm really sorry.”

Aomine looked surprised as they continued to walk casually down one of the tree lined paths, the soothing babble of a nearby fountain providing a charming backing track to their discussion.

“What for?”

“Y-you know...” Kise picked at his hem, flushing in the cold air... he thought Aomine was punishing him, making him declare his crimes in specific detail, “for earlier? I was... not very good... and now Mistress needs to fire me, right?”

Saying it like this just made him sound extra pathetic and he sniffled sadly. Aomine squeezed his hand tighter and pulled him around, whirling on his tip toes until he was nearly chest to chest with the taller man. His eyes only came up to the other's shoulders and he peeked up nervously.

“That's ridiculous,” Aomine said curtly, still holding on to his hand, “do you know why I called you out here this afternoon?”

Kise blinked.

“This is... punishment... right?”

He was confused. Master Aomine seemed to be laughing, yet he'd missed the joke. The dark skinned man ran a thumb down his cheek comfortingly and clicked his tongue.

“Not at all,” he almost chided, “I wanted to tell you I will be bringing you home with me.”

There was a moment's silence as Kise was far too shocked to say anything. Then his jaw dropped and his eyes went wide in surprise.

“What?!” he cried, wrenching his hand away from Aomine to cover his mouth in awe, “you're... you... you _bought_ me? You bought... _me_?!”

“Yes,” Aomine was pleased by his reaction, though he was far more excitable than he could have ever anticipated, “I trust you are okay with this?”

“Okay? Yes, _yes_ , of course!! Very okay! A-are you sure, though?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Well, I'm... you know. New.”

Aomine nodded.

“Yes, the Madame has told me you received your full, proper training, however?”

It was a legal requirement that all those undergoing this kind of lifestyle were to be fully, properly educated, especially those you would find in a higher end establishment such as this. That is why so many prostitutes were people of great specialisations like architecture, literature, medicine or sciences. This was another ethical ruling to ensure that those who wanted to do this _really_ wanted to do this and it wasn't just an act of desperation. It also made them far more attractive to prospective customers as they knew they would be getting with someone who had half a brain screwed on to their shoulders at least. Typically they would also receive training on more etiquette and social matters – how to make small talk, how to be a good listener, how to pour drinks or serve food, most were even trained in first aid should the need require it.

Of course, they were also trained in other, more _colourful_ arts. They were prostitutes after all.

“Y-yes, well...” Kise swallowed nervously, “I have completed all of my courses, as required...”

“Excellent.”

“B-but, it's my _first day_.”

He stressed this as though Aomine should be reading something further into it. The darker man furrowed his brow in slight confusion, hoping the blond could be more direct.

“You know...” Kise continued, sensing that he wasn't making his point, and he was much too shy to say what he was trying to say aloud, “my first day on this type of job... anywhere.”

A few seconds ticked past before a light bulb lit up in Aomine's mind.

“Are you trying to say you're a virgin?”

Kise turned beet red, though his eyes relaxed as though he was relieved they got to that understanding and he didn't have to say it himself.

“Well, that's perfectly fine.”

Kise blinked up at him.

“It is?”

“Naturally,” Aomine inclined his head.

Kise worried that Aomine may be one of those types who would want to bed him the second they got home. He really felt as though it was only fair that the other man knew what he was getting in to with purchasing the blond. Though Kise was very certain that The Madame would have given him every last detail, _including_ that little caveat. _Especially_ that little caveat. It would be painfully obvious he was inexperienced the moment Aomine tried to touch him, especially when it came to relations between two men, and Kise knew that the Mistress was in the business of keeping her customers happy. The posed naked the first time they ever met their clients to prevent any nasty surprises later on, that's just how thorough she was.

Aomine's casual acceptance of this fact gave Kise a new worry. What if he was the kind who wanted to buy a young one just for the fact he was virgin? He'd heard that people would sometimes do that – bid on the most innocent, young prostitute they could so that they'd have the privilege of popping their cherry so to speak. That put a whole new level of pressure on Kise, as he would have to live up to Aomine's expectations since he would have definitely paid a higher price for the opportunity. Not that he minded. He just really, really didn't want to let anybody down.

Kise was too embarrassed to press Aomine any further for his intentions, and Aomine seemed oblivious to his inner turmoil. The walked a little longer in the frigid outdoors, their footsteps leaving glassy imprints on the crisp frost butting the stone paving.

“Are you sure?” Kise asked suddenly, “you're not interested in any of the others...?”

Aomine chuckled at his typical youthful lack of self confidence. It was quite cute. He couldn't wait to help shape him into the kind of man who could walk with his head held high.

“I'm very sure,” he replied gently, “I would like nothing more than to share my home with you.”

Kise blushed.

He felt... warm. He still couldn't believe it – out of everyone, Master Aomine had picked _him_. He was so awkward! He was so sure he'd messed everything up! And yet... somehow... he'd managed to catch the attention of a very suave, sophisticated, high-society type man. He still wasn't entirely sure it was a total mistake.

They talked a little longer, about very general things. They continued to hold hands, and Kise nearly giggled like a schoolgirl when Aomine's fingers threaded through his, his thumb brushing over the blond's in a intimate display of affection. Kise discovered that Master Aomine was an _architectural analyst_ – someone who oversaw building development and design. It was a job that took him all over the world to speak on-site to clients in all kinds of glamorous cities across the globe. Kise listened with rapture as Aomine told him about his favourite places – Hong Kong, Sydney, Rome – it was such a fanciful sounding life, even if Aomine worked very hard to make it so.

“Tell me more about you,” he asked of Kise when he felt as though he'd talked about himself altogether far too much, “I want to know about Ryouta Kise.”

Kise hummed nervously, brushing his bangs behind his ear and trying to think quick about where to begin. What could he possibly say that would come anywhere close to matching the kinds of interesting stories Aomine had though? He couldn't think of a single one. He was suddenly very self conscious again.

“Well...” he began slowly, hoping the rest of the sentence would pull itself together on the way, “you know I sing...”

Aomine made a noise in the affirmative, smiling comfortingly.

“I look forward to hearing you sing. And play the harp too, wasn't it?”

“Oh yes!” Kise beamed, “I will definitely play for you sometime... w-will I be able to bring my harp with me?”

Aomine found Kise's need for approval and permission quite sweet. He knew others in the world would take advantage of that impressionable nature, especially in their current situation, but he revelled in the idea of encouraging and mentoring Kise until he could blossom into a success in his own right.

“Of course,” Aomine replied and Kise's face lit up like Christmas morning, “I will buy you any instruments you may need or desire. In fact, I'll buy you anything _at all_ that you want. That is our arrangement.”

Kise felt like his head was rushing at what lifestyle he was about to be pulled into. So high society. So fancy. So _wealthy_. Even living at Teiko had been so much more classy than he was used to. He couldn't imagine what his future was about to hold. To be honest, he didn't know if he was entirely ready. Not after this morning's performance where he almost had a breakdown just trying to introduce himself to a stranger. Then again, the stranger was right beside him and taking him home, so he clearly couldn't have performed _too_ poorly. He felt embarrassed again about the idea of someone buying him anything he wanted, and he knew Aomine meant it too. He could probably ask for a vintage harpsichord played by Mozart himself, on display at the most elite museum in the world, and Aomine would pull enough strings to have it in his possession within the day.

After their casual stroll, during which they both got to know each other much better, and got along as though they had been old friends, Kise was sent to his room to pack. As Aomine had previously suspected, Madame Momoi showed up at the exact right time from seemingly nowhere. She had a gift for reading an atmosphere, it seemed, even if she herself was nowhere to be seen by the objects of her observation. Aomine had been looking for her too, convinced as he was that he was about to prove his hypothesis correct, but he didn't see her until she was mere feet from them, striding across the grounds with due purpose.

She directed Kise back to the house and the blond gave a shy little wave to Aomine over his shoulder. Momoi lead Aomine back to the mansion, asking all the typical questions – how did he like Kise? Is he happy to go ahead with his purchase? Is there anything she could do to assist?

Back in her office, they completed all of the paperwork that required signatures, now that he was final in his decision to purchase. Momoi beamed happily at him as he scanned each document, though he had read them all thoroughly before, and dotted the i's and crossed the t's, initialling where initials were called for, and signing where signatures were required. Finally he reached the last page in the stack. It was a very formal, unassuming invoice. It would not sway his decision in the slightest, but out of curiosity, Aomine glanced at the figure along the bottom.

Suffice to say, Momoi would have made a hefty profit margin on this boy. No wonder she looked so happy.

Aomine signed it, his signature scrawled and loopy and his hand starting to cramp with how many times he'd just had to letter everything. Momoi clapped with delight and assured her guest he would not regret his purchase.

“Now, for transport,” she set about scanning the documents Aomine had signed, creating copies for both her own records and for Aomine himself to take home – just a formality – leaving one set of copies on her desk and the other in a manilla travel folder, “would you like to take him home with you today? Alternatively, we can have someone bring him to your residence at a more convenient time?”

Aomine mused on his options.

“No... I think I shall take him with me. I brought the car.”

Momoi chirped a response in the affirmative, and bundled up Aomine's copies of the documents, now completed and legally binding. He handed her his credit card from a leather slip inside of his pocket, and she ran it through a conveniently placed reader machine he hadn't noticed in amongst her collection of decorative stationery. By the time they had finished this process of officiating the sale, Kise had been a whirlwind through his room. Everything was packed away in these cute little trunks the mansion had supplied. Stacked on top of one another, they were filled with his neatly pressed clothes and trinkets. His harp was only a small one – he didn't want to waste money on buying a _decent_ one until he was sure he both could and wanted to continue playing it. That was packed neatly in its own black carry case, leaning against the lightweight wooden trunks that held the rest of his gear. Mercifully, it didn't take long to pack, as he'd only just gotten here.

He had undergone the final stages of his training in another part of the house – the mansion was quite sizeable after all. Kise had been scouted during the finals week of his routine education, after putting in an application on a whim to be whisked away into a fanciful lifestyle. To be frank, a life of hard work didn't sit well with him at all. He had enough comfort in his own sense of self to admit honestly that he would much rather get a sugar daddy or sponsor who he just had to periodically have sex with, and who would make the rest of his existence a financial cruise through life. He had been dreaming of it. Never thought it would actually happen. Never thought someone who fit the bill quite so thoroughly would ever come along and pluck him up from his average life. Not on the first day on the job. That was pushing the limits of reality, even by fantasy day dream standards.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, the one he'd only had a chance to sleep in the night before, when a knock came at the door. _This_ time he was excited to hear it. It heralded his new life about to begin. Oh man, he was probably going to wear fancy clothes, and go to fancy parties and meet fancy people, and play fancy instruments and eat fancy food-

His mind was going a million miles an hour. He bounded across the room in a few quick strides and threw the door open, a massive smile on his face. A few of the burly guys who provided security around the complex were there, and they swept up his luggage like it weighed nothing. They carted it off, and the Madame pushed her way past them, grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, everything is finalised!” she trilled excitedly, as though she were powered by the amazingly happy bubble Kise had going on around him.

He thanked her profusely for being so accommodating, and for putting him up in the kind of position where he _had_ been chosen. It very almost didn't happen. They had discussed him taking a week off between finishing his training and beginning work, but he had insisted that he wanted to get into the swing of things as soon as possible. To be honest, he just wanted to lose his virginity as quickly as possible, knowing the first time would be awkward as hell, but then it would be over and done with and he could begin with some real _hands on_ training. He kept thinking over and over in his head while he put away all of his belongings that if he hadn't been proactive and wanted to jump right into earning his keep, then he never would have been in that line up. He never would have met Aomine. He never would have been on his way to a _manor_ or a _penthouse_ or _condo_ or whatever amazingly lavish type of building Aomine called home. He didn't even know. He didn't even care. He was so excited he thought he might scream. He grabbed his pillow and did just that, squealing with delight until it was completely out of his system and he had composed himself once again.

He knew he was the envy of all his colleagues. He would be willing to bet good money that some jealous snakes were hissing their way from ear to ear all over the complex about how he didn't deserve this or how he was going to mess this up. Their envy just seemed to make him own this situation even more. He flicked his hair, attitude dialed up to maximum at the invisible stares of the haters in his mind as the reality of _he picked me and no-one else_ started to really set in.

She squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, smiling so wide her perfectly dazzling teeth glittered blindingly. She spoke to him very earnestly on the way out of the manor, through the maze of corridors and hallways, through the brilliant and imposing atrium and down the front steps until they were approaching the great, wrought iron gates at the front of the complex. He remembered walking through them very fondly. His memories of walking out of them would be even more fond in retrospect, or he hoped very sincerely. A car was waiting by the drive. It hummed with the sound of a well kept engine, it's black tinted windows shadowed just dark enough that he couldn't see inside, though he knew very well who awaited him there.

“Last check,” Momoi said, putting her hands on his upper arms very matronly like, “are you sure you didn't need anything? No last questions?”

Kise shook his head.

“Excellent,” she clapped his shoulders and gestured to the back seat of the car, “just remember you have my card if you need anything. You can always call, or drop by to visit. You're always welcome, darling. Have fun – and don't be afraid to ask Master Aomine if there is anything you need! Don't worry, he's a very good man... I know.”

Her eyes sparkled in such a way that left no doubt that she really did know. She was infamously good at gathering information. No doubt she screened all prospective clients before they so much as set foot in the door. The fact that he had indeed set foot in her establishment spoke volumes of the amount the Madame trusted him, which was always an excellent indication of character. Only men and women who were good of heart got to take home her precious jewels, so to speak.

Kise climbed into the back seat where Aomine was waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	2. Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine and Kise begin to grow closer, but a single unassuming slip-up changes the nature of their relationship for good.

Kise climbed into the back seat where Aomine was waiting for him, as expected. He was wearing a thick overcoat that he'd collected from the mousey girl at the door, and smiled as Kise climbed into the back seat alongside him.

“So,” Kise was brimming with excitement, “whereabouts do you live?”

Aomine simply told Kise that he'd see soon enough. He kind of liked the idea of keeping this a surprise – he could only imagine the look of delight that would cross Kise's face at seeing it for the first time in the flesh.

Aomine's home was a magnificent apartment on the top floor of one of the most high-class buildings in the heart of the city itself. He knew he kept several celebrities and high profile businessmen as neighbours, but the penthouse was his crowning jewel. It was hyper modern, refurbished in the last year by the upscale building company who had purchased and made over the entire complex. It was actually a subsidiary of Aomine's company – which was how he managed to get a good word in with the director of operations that he was currently in the market for a new home after his last apartment block changed hands too, but went entirely to hell. Could you believe they closed the pool? In _Summer_? Aomine wasn't exactly the kind to pull the “Do you know who I am?” card, but he certainly didn't pay the kind of deposit that he did to live in a building that did not have access to the absolute finest of commodities.

One successful quarter and a perfectly timed pay bonus later, and he was moving that very week into the kind of place he could _actually_ unwind without needing to worry about that B-grade songstress in the apartment across the hall who liked to practice her operatics at an offensive hour of the early afternoon. He was quite happy with his new dwellings. He had a wide, open plan kitchen and lounge, with spectacular views of the city to one side, and to the other, the scenic stretch of the local river winding around streets and hills. It reminded him of his childhood home. It just felt _right_. The rooftop garden only he had access to, with a jacuzzi, zen garden and entertaining area was also a strong highlight.

He also had three guest rooms. To be honest, he hadn't given much thought to where Kise would be sleeping once they lived together. His own bed? Would that be weird? He wasn't sure. He had the maids give the spare rooms an extra clean just to make sure. At present they were only decorated with a single bed, and an empty dresser. It was quite useful when he had friends and family come to stay, which they usually liked to do at his house which was far fancier than most of the local hotels, five star or no. He wanted to be able to give the person he brought home options. He didn't even know what kind of person he'd be bringing home until his return anyway, so he left a lot of the concrete decision making until he could have their input. He was quite sure Kise would be the kind who would appreciate having his own space to customise. Aomine was already planning in his head where he'd put the boy’s harp – maybe kit out a corner of the spacious dining room as a kind of musical jam corner with a few instruments and gear set up for him...

He was shaken from his daydream by a loud “WOAH!”

He glanced over at Kise, who was pressed up against the glass of the car window, his eyes full of wonderment and awe. His amber irises sparkled in the hustle and bustle of the city streets as their driver wound through highways and busy roads, lined with malls and boutique stores that slowly grew in obscurity and price the closer they got to home. The sidewalks were decorated with well maintained shrubs and rose bushes, and smaller trees rimmed with colourful flower beds. They gave such a sense of life to the city itself, like nature was growing up in between the cracks of polished wood and concrete and steel until they lived in sync, like a synthetic kind of living organism, pulsing with a kind of eclectic soul. Aomine called another city home, but this was the kind of place he loved to make a living in.

Kise looked as though he had never been here before. Aomine leaned over towards him until they were looking out of the same window.

“Magnificent, isn't it?” he asked, and Kise jumped like he was startled.

“It's amazing!” he gushed, “I've never been to this part of town before. Do you live _here_?”

“No,” Aomine chuckled, “ _we_ live further uptown.”

Kise's face was comically shocked, as though he couldn't even consider a fancier place than where they were currently looking. Believe it or not, it only got better the further they travelled up river. The driver was intentionally taking the scenic route on Aomine's request – he really wanted Kise to get a feel for the city, a decent vibe for how it looked, how it moved, how it breathed. He couldn't quite put a name to the feeling, but it was of utmost importance to him that Kise was comfortable and happy here and shared the same appreciation for how wonderful this city was.

When they pulled up out the front of his building, Aomine couldn't hold back a laugh at the expression that flickered over Kise's face.

“ _Here_?!” he asked, his voice coming out in a pitch higher than he intended.

“This is it,” Aomine confirmed, stepping out of the car where the driver politely held the door. The chauffeur jogged around the back of the car to open Kise's door next, and the poor teenager was so busy gawking he nearly fell face first out of the vehicle and flat onto the pavement. First thing was first, however. He took Kise by the arm, elbows entwined, and presented him to the receptionist.

“This is Kise Ryouta,” he introduced, “and he will be living with me from here on out. Please ensure you update your records accordingly, and have someone send up an extra set of keys to the building. Thank you.”

Kise gaped at how the receptionist sprang immediately into action, full of “pleases” and “thank you”s, scribbling on a post it note like crazy, but being sure to give Aomine nothing short of a face full of smiles. It was surprising to Kise to see someone command that much respect out of someone. To be fair, he'd seen the Madame in action, gaining respect and praise from everybody wherever she went. But that felt... different. Aomine's demeanour demanded a different kind of awe from all those he interacted with. Just being on his arm alone seemed to fill Kise with some second-hand sense of pride and authority. He couldn't wait to see what else awaited him in his new life.

The elevator ride was probably one of the most fun things Kise had gotten the pleasure of doing in a long time. He'd spent a long time in training at his tiny university in some backwater village outside of another, more backwater town. It was so small that it was difficult to find on a map, and in all his life, Kise had never spoken to a stranger who knew where it was. _That's_ how inconsequential his origins story was. To go from Nowheresville, population: who knows? To _this_? It was a fairytale dream come true. In fact, it was _more_ than a dream, because even Kise's creative mind could never have put together such a perfect Pretty Woman rip off in a million years even if he tried very hard to.

After the twentieth floor or so, the elevator smoothly transitioned into a glass window casing, giving them an amazing preview of the view. Kise thought he might faint, and it wasn't just from the sudden subjection to a great height.

It didn't escape him that Aomine had pushed the button for the highest floor. He nearly vibrated with excitement. So his guesses about Aomine owning a pent house were correct, after all. He mentally patted himself on the back for his excellent deductive reasoning. Maybe some of the Mistress' talents had rubbed off on him. He was a million years from her skill, but an odd lucky guess here and there was pretty nice.

The elevator chimed softly when they reached their floor, and Kise was so busy staring at the tiny ants that were cars and people going about their business all the way down below that Aomine had to gently tug him into the hall before the elevator doors closed on him. There was only one door in this foyer. There only needed to be. The security in this building was absolutely top notch, and for their penthouse owner, even more so. Not only did you require a code to even operate the elevator, but you also needed a key _and_ a swipe pass to get past the front door. Aomine had input the code into a panel by the floor selection buttons while Kise was busy hyperventilating over the state of the immaculately polished wooden interior of the elevator.

“Three-two-seven-seven,” Aomine said as he fished his keys out of his jacket pocket.

“Huh?” Kise shook his head as though clearing his thoughts after waking up from a deep sleep.

“The code to the elevator.”

“There's a code?” Kise's eyes widened, almost nervously, like he was just beginning to realise that everything was different and he had a whole lot of learning and settling in to do from this point forward.

“It's just inside the door,” Aomine assured him in his deep, husky voice that Kise actually did find very soothing, and he visibly relaxed, “I'll write it down for you in a little bit.”

He pressed a little metal token into the access panel by his front door, the plaque on the front advertising that this was _“Level 40, Penthouse_ ”. It beeped happily, a little green light appearing in the top corner. Aomine then stuck his key in the lock, twisting it around in a single fluid motion that suggested he'd done this a hundred times before.

Kise was actually on his toes in anticipation for what the inside of Aomine's home was going to look like.

He'd already massively blown out of proportion how lavish it was going to be in his head. Aomine seemed like a man of wealth who liked to actually enjoy that social status and Kise was sure his house would reflect that. What greeted him from the front door was even better than he could have imagined.

It looked like a magazine spread.

It was _immaculate_ , glittering from every surface like a display home. Not a single thing was out of place. Kise wished he had an extra set of eyes or twenty so he could look at everything at the same time, there was just so much to take in. Stifling a deep laugh, Aomine had to push him inside – Kise's feet had rooted him to the ground as he gaped and gawked at absolutely everything so fast his eyes were darting all over. It was making Aomine dizzy just watching him. Placing a hand gently in the small of his back, Aomine pressed the blond forward. Kise moved as though he wasn't even aware his feet were working, wooden like he was on auto pilot. He was far too preoccupied with coming to terms with the fact that _this_ was his new home.

He had cried the first night he spent in the Teiko mansion, just because everything was so _goddamn fancy_. He cried because there were tiny little hotel-style soaps by the bathroom sink, and there were fresh flowers in his window. But this pent house was just... too much. Too much to take in. He felt like his brain had blue screened like an uncooperative computer and was currently in the process of rebooting as he took in everything around him. And the _smell_. It smelt like new leather and apples and faintly musky like day old incense. He fell in love with it at first sight.

“What do you think?” Aomine asked after a good minute or two, letting the teenager adjust to his new environment.

He supposed this was all a bit overwhelming for the boy. He himself was a little at odds with how things were supposed to progress from here, but he was the mature one, the one who had purchased the other, and he felt some faint sense of responsibility for ensuring the continuation of the positive vibe they'd had going ever since they left the Teiko Garden of Unearthly Delights.

Kise made some inhuman noise that sounded like a weak whimper for a man who was faint of heart. So Aomine let him take another minute or so to just... take it all in. After what felt like an eternity, Kise took a few shaky feet further inside the pent house on his own two uncertain feet. His mouth was still wide open, as though each new thing his eyes fell on he couldn't quite believe.

It wasn't until he came to the lounge area that he finally spoke.

Aomine was in the middle of making them both a cup of tea (he figured the blond could probably use something calming in his system right about now, this was all together a bit too much excitement for the both of them).

“Do you have any video games?” Kise blurted out suddenly, his fists clenched under his chin in excitement as he looked at the sizeable, wall mounted flat screen that faced inward to the very nice leather sofa Aomine had actually only purchased last week. His old one had begun to look a little dated and it had a horrible red wine stain on one of the cushions from a party during which a guest had a little _accident_. He had of course told them it was fine, that was the polite thing to do, but no matter how much he scrubbed, it never quite came out of the caramel coloured cushion covers. Even when he flipped the cushion, nobody else could tell but he just _knew_. It bothered him to no end. After bringing it up for the umpteenth time with his maid, of whom he actually had quite a nice, friendly working relationship with, she sighed in frustration, pinched his ear and told him to just buy a new one if it bothered him that much.

This was a brilliant idea and he had no idea why he'd never considered it before.

The new lounge was a sleek black. Stain proof. He grinned smugly to himself as he admired it from his place in the kitchen, resting against the island counter as the water in the crystal clear kettle began to bubble merrily. Two mugs sat on the marble counter tops, already filled with a little strainer brimming with loose leaf tea. He had tea bags stashed somewhere in the back of his pantry, but they didn't quite have the same flavour and finesse as the loose leaf stuff. He really only kept the others for guests and emergencies. You never knew when you'd need them.

But Kise was also still very much a child. From the moment he had asked about video games with a youthful twinkle to his eyes, Aomine was reminded heavily that this boy was barely an adult by any standards. Of course, he humoured him and pulled a relatively new console out of storage in the linen closet – he was quite fond of days spent lazing on his couch and alternating between napping and playing games. For someone so hard working and successful, it was almost like he had to work double time to cram in as much relaxation and leisure as possible in his all too short weekends to make it worth it. He hadn't played many games in a long time. Somehow he just didn't have the energy for it. Maybe he was getting old.

Aomine was well into his thirties – the stress-drawn lines beginning to form around the crease of his eyes giving him a handsome, mature air. But beside Kise's bright, youthful complexion he felt suddenly haggard and world weary. Perhaps he was. He had felt tired lately, so tired. Nights spent worrying about the health of his mother were behind him, but for all the wrong reasons. Even though he was sleeping through the night again, he still didn't feel any more refreshed than he did before she died. To see Kise bouncing with life and energy only served to highlight the severity of the difference between them.

He mused on this, a sour butt behind his eyes, as Kise gratefully drank his tea and excitedly scooted over the floor to plug in the game console. There really wasn't much else for them to do, and it was recommended by the Teiko Mistress that they spend a little time together just around the house to see how well they _click_. Aomine plugged everything in for him and switched the console on after Kise had dug out a game he liked the looks of.

“Do you want to play?” Kise held a controller up to Aomine who considered a moment before shaking his head.

“I would rather watch,” he replied, folding his hands primly in his lap and reclining further into the new couch leathers.

“Oh-...” Kise stumbled on his words, suddenly very self conscious again as though he were under a very bright spot light, “just so you know... I've never really uhh... played too many games before. I'm not very good.”

Aomine chuckled at the troubled scowl on the blond's face.

“Don't worry, Ryouta,” he said soothingly, “I'm not judging you on your playing ability.”

“Oh...” Kise turned his back as the game started up, “that's good... just thought I'd let you know...”

His mumble trailed off as his attention was suddenly completely absorbed in his present entertainment. He didn't need to warn Aomine that he hadn't played many games before, Aomine thought to himself after watching the blond play for a while, since he was _terrible_. That was putting it kindly. Aomine eventually took pity on him and pointed to the screen with a curt “ _there_ ” after Kise walked past the objective he'd been looking for _again_ for the eighth time in three minutes.

“Oh!” the blond's mouth curled into a surprised 'O', “thank you. You're really good at this!”

Aomine didn't have the heart to tell him that no, it wasn't gaming skill that was holding him back it was just a surprising lack of common sense. _Well_ , Aomine thought to himself _, … at least he's got good looks on his side._ And apparent musical ability, but Aomine hadn't really had the chance to witness that yet.

The sun had well and truly set low in the sky by the time Kise had become totally entrenched in the game. Aomine found himself simply enjoying the presence of another human being. The white noise of another person living, _breathing_ near to him was of more comfort than the dark skinned man could put into words. It was like he didn't know what he was missing until he was missing it. Moving quietly, he slid off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. When he came back to present Kise with a plate of ragù under the boy's nose, the blond jumped as though suddenly startled out of a deep reverie.

“F-for me?” he stumbled over his words as he fumbled with the game controller and the cutlery Aomine tried to hand to him.

“Of course. I had the chef prepare extra meals in preparation for an extra... guest.”

“You have a chef?” Kise scoffed slightly, “don't you live by yourself?”

“I'm a busy man,” Aomine smiled indulgently, a dull twinkle in his eyes.

Aomine took his place on the lounge behind where Kise was still seated on the floor, too absorbed in his video game to consider much about his comfort. They ate in silence for a moment, clinking crockery and the muffled pause music of Kise's game the only thing breaking the ice.

“May I ask you a question?” Kise queried suddenly, setting down his plate on the floor in front of him.

Aomine raised his eyebrows in a quiet prompt to go ahead, placing his food to the side to give the boy his full attention. Food hadn't really tasted the same to him lately anyway. It was a necessity he bore no love for and could easily resign if needed. Kise nibbled on the corner of his lip and fidgeted with a stray lock of hair with such unconscious directness it seemed to be a force of habit.

“Well...” Kise glanced up from underneath his lashes, “why did you come to Teiko today?”

“Why...” Aomine repeated pensively, “why indeed. It's a bit of a long story.”

Aomine scratched thoughtfully at the stubble beneath his chin and wondered whether or not it was a good idea to give Kise the entire weight of his current emotional baggage. While keeping him in the loop would be preferable, Aomine wasn't sure if he was in the right mind to deliver the story without getting more emotional than was necessary.

“Please!” Kise sounded surprisingly desperate, “I want to know.”

Aomine blinked slowly.

And so he told the boy. Kise listened with quiet rapture, leaning in closer to better give the older man his undivided attention as Aomine recounted in a very brief summary the events that lead him to Teiko that morning. His mother and her recent passing. His desire to honour her in a way he thought would befit a woman of such calibre.

Kise seemed to reflect on the story once Aomine was done, still worrying his lower lip between his teeth. There was something troubled behind his eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by the other man.

“But why _me_ ,” he pressed gently, hoping he wasn't overstepping his boundaries by pushing the issue – Aomine seemed strained enough as it was just telling him the basics.

“Would you rather I hadn't picked you?” Aomine replied, greatly interested in the conversation at hand as he leant on his fist beneath his jaw.

“No!” Kise panicked, suddenly worried he was inviting the older man to regret his decision, “it's just that I was the youngest, the least experienced... the-...the least talented... out of all the people there. I just want to know what made you think I'd be the best choice.”

Aomine put a hand on the blond's head, stirring his hair affectionately. It was surprisingly intimate but not strange for either of them. It somehow felt _right_. Comforting. For them both.

“Because,” Aomine continued, “you stood out. I felt like we would get along... don't you agree?”

Kise took a moment to take in his surrounds – the immaculate living room, the polished floors, the now star studded night sky outside the crystal clear windows, and... Aomine himself. Husky voiced, and with more wisdom in his gaze than he seemed to give himself credit for.

“I do,” Kise nodded firmly, “I do think we'll get along.”

The rest of the night continued with little excitement. Kise continued his video game and Aomine watched from behind him, reclined casually on the lounge and offering tidbits of advice where he could. He enjoyed watching the young boy play. It was very endearing, seeing his excitement and wonder at discovering a new area or solving a puzzle on his own.

A yawn suddenly escaped the blond and he blinked meekly, his attention diverted back to Aomine as though asking an unspoken question.

“Tired?” Aomine was beginning to feel the foggy lull of sleep tugging at the edge of his consciousness also and he stretched, feeling joints crick wearily back into place.

“Uhh-... y-yes,” Kise tugged at a curl of hair in his eyes, suddenly too shy to meet Aomine's eyes again.

“I was going to ask you what you preferred...” Aomine stood, “your own room or... with me?”

Kise reddened so suddenly it was a miracle he didn't faint on the spot from all the blood rushing to his head.

“You mean I have a choice?” he asked shakily.

“Of course.”

The look on Kise's face as he glanced up at the older man was almost... suspicious. Rolling his tongue around his mouth as he stalled for time to find the right words, the blond's brows were knitted together with something akin to worry.

“May I have my own room?” he spoke very level and metered as though testing waters Aomine wasn't aware of.

“That was one of the options, yes.”

Without further ado, the darker man walked in the direction of the bedrooms, Kise scrambling to his feet and falling in to step behind him quick as a flash. Aomine pushed open the door to the largest spare bedroom, sparkling clean as he had ordered from the maids. It was bare – primed for a new occupant – with nothing more than the essential furniture gracing the carpeted floors. He tried to pretend there wasn't just a glimmer of disappointment in Kise's decision. After all, he was free to do as he wished.

“For me?” Kise asked nervously, glancing at the size of the bedroom – it was surely twice the size of his room at Teiko and that was more than comfortable enough for his needs.

“It's the largest spare room I have,” Aomine pushed the blond gently over the threshold and followed him inside.

“It's... big.”

Aomine was very tempted to make a dry witticism about stating the obvious, but he felt it was neither the time nor the place for wry humour.

“It's boring.”

Kise's commentary was unexpected to say the least. It was probably the most honest and most blunt thing that the boy had said all day.

“Well, I didn't... know what kind of person you would be,” Aomine spoke in his own defence, “I wanted to keep things simple. Afford you the opportunity to decorate things yourself.”

Kise nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Aomine as though agreeing that made sense.

“Which one is your room?” Kise trotted past the older man to poke his head back out into the hallway, glancing at the closed doors down the hall.

“Right at the end.”

Though doors were located left and right, there was only one set of double doors straight down the length of the corridor, more impressive looking that the rest.

“Hmm,” Kise hummed thoughtfully and turned away, “maybe one day I'll get to see it,” he added – cryptically.

The blond shyly shooed Aomine out of his room to sleep and they parted ways. If they had a window into each others' worlds at that moment they would have seen that they were a perfect mirror image of shared emotions. Laying awake a top the covers, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how the universe itself had just changed for them both but neither had the right words to say how meaningful and yet, entirely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things this new life would be.

A week passed in quiet reflection – habits coming out to play and routines being built on the foundations of foreign presence. And then a week more. And then a month. Things were starting to become... normal.

Colourless leaves began to fall across the penthouse balcony, decorating the ornate terrace with drops of brown fanned across an entire spectrum of colour. Winter had truly sunk Her teeth into the city, hissing with an abrasive, rattling chill at any and all who dared to brave the streets in her element.

Kise continued to be told off by Aomine's no-nonsense maid, who had no qualms about telling the blond that he was running her out of business with how thorough he was cleaning the house before she arrived. Kise couldn't help it. It was lonely when Aomine went to work. And he worked _a lot_.

In reality, it wasn't actually that much, but to Kise, it was eternity. He was used to being in school, or at Teiko – somewhere surrounded by people where there was always something happening, always something going on around him. Here, when Aomine went to the office, there was no-one. Save the maid... and she kept shooing him from room to room as she worked.

One day she caught a snippet of him singing to himself and she rushed up to him so fast he jumped back in surprise.

“Little Ryou!” she gushed in a mothering tone – she was easily three times his senior but all the more tenacious for it, “you have a _gift!”_

“What?” Kise laughed nervously, too startled to catch up to what she was saying.

“A _gift,”_ she smiled knowingly and prodded his chest with a gnarled finger, a hefty ring at its base.

“You mean my singing?”

“Of course, dear boy, your singing! How wonderful it is to hear such a beautiful, sweet voice – like an angel! Not like those young things your age on the radio, always talking about the _sex_ and _drugs_ and heart ache – no – you have a voice of _love_ , just like I used to hear back in my day!”

She sighed wistfully, and smiled warmly, a hand to her heart. Kise couldn't help but feel flattered.

“T-thank you,” he stuttered meekly, returning her grin sheepishly.

The maid insisted that Kise use his free time to practice, to _hone his gift_ , as she said. 'An unsharpened sword doesn't cut,' she'd said, 'an out of touch actor cannot smile,' she said. Kise wasn't too sure what half of the idioms she used actually meant, but the general gist was there and he appreciated it.

So practice he did. Every day. Aomine would leave for work and Kise would drag his small harp case out from under his bed and sit in his room, tuning and writing and practicing as much as he could. He felt like he was getting pretty good... if he did say so himself. He wasn't brave enough to play for Aomine yet, and Aomine hadn't asked, so he was too nervous to even consider it.

In fact, Aomine hadn't asked him to do much at all... if _anything at all_. Kise had an idea in his head about what the types of men who made permanent purchases of brothel workers were and so far, Aomine had been nothing like that. Not that he was complaining, but he'd expected at least a few more demands of physical intimacy from his warden, but... nothing. Kise was more than just a little confused. Did he have a weird hang up about sex? Was Kise supposed to initiate? Was it appropriate to even ask? Was he scared because Kise had told him he was a virgin? He wouldn't put it past Aomine to be the kind who would be too “honourable” to defile him... then again, people were very different behind closed doors. And Kise hadn't had a chance to even _see_ behind Aomine's closed doors yet. The metaphor was painfully accurate for both the penthouse _and_ Aomine himself – in a figurative sense, of course.

It was beginning to really get to Kise. He knew it shouldn't, but it was eating him up inside bit by bit – he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and that he should be doing something about it. Aomine had bought him and almost ignored him right after.... perhaps that's just the kind of man Aomine is, but it was driving Kise crazy. Aomine would come home, and sure, they'd eat dinner together and spend a little time together but that was _it_. It felt more like a strange roommate-ship than anything close to what he'd been lead to expect this would be like.

Kise resolved, one sleepless night, to fix that. He would figure out once and for all what Aomine's intentions were with him, and he was concrete in his mindset that no matter what the outcome, he would accept it and please Aomine however he wished to be pleased. It took an awful lot of brainstorming, tossing and turning in his satin night clothes (Aomine had bought them for him on their last shopping trip... of which there had been _many,_ much to Kise's unbridled joy _)._

Finally, he had it.

He waited a few days, just to mull it over and ensure that it was really the best chance he had of figuring out what Aomine's deal was. By the end of the week, he was sure. This was going to _work_ , guaranteed.

Friday night came and went without much incident – Aomine had taken Kise out for dinner which was nothing unusual, and Kise had dressed expertly in designer brands that were as new as they were expensive, and yet there was nothing out of the ordinary about that. Kise spared just a second to appreciate all that Aomine was doing for him _financially_ (he didn't want to feel too guilty for being ungrateful so he was sure to think positive thoughts as strong as he could) but the jig was up and it was time to tip the scales. Kise let Aomine head to bed with a meek “goodnight”, same as always. But this is where his plan would come into action.

He waited. And waited. And waited some more. A few hours went by before he moved from his own bed, stealthily and quiet, like a mouse. His heart was hammering in his chest so loud he was worried it would echo loudly in the hallway and give away his position. He crept silently towards the big double doors at the end of the corridor. They loomed above him so wide and tall and imposing it felt like a bad dream where no matter how fast you run, you don't actually move an inch. But move he did, and soon his trembling hands were on the door knob. He turned the handle and let himself in.

From Aomine's point of view, it was any other night. He had taken Kise out, and worried deeply that he was boring the boy. He had noticed the restlessness and apathy Kise was beginning to show, and he worried that he should be doing more. He'd taken the blond out on as many weekend trips as he could, though he feared that there weren't as many fun events to bring him out to this close to the end of the financial quarter. He tried to buy him as much as he could to fill the absence – clothes, games, _things,_ but still he was greeted with a heavy sigh every afternoon. He certainly didn't feel as though Kise was being ungrateful – the boy was always incredibly earnest and happy to see him, and thanked him a million times over for buying him so much as a soda. But something was missing. They both felt it.

He was awoken from a dreamless sleep by something shuffling around him. He leapt to a half-way sitting position, clutching his sheet tightly in defensive surprise until he heard a familiar voice cooing his name.

“Ryou-?” Aomine mumbled sleepily, voice thick with drowsiness.

“It's cold,” he whispered in the dark, still fumbling around beside the older man.

Aomine huffed something blearily non-committal and confused. All became clear when the blanket was momentarily lifted from his shoulders and a cold body slid under the covers alongside of him. He stiffened and turned to look at the blond despite the pressing darkness. Kise could feel Aomine's eyes burning brightly against the top of his head, staring through the darkness and into his very soul itself as he hid his flushed cheeks in the curve of the older man's bare shoulders.

Kise breathed a small sigh of relief to find that Aomine didn't sleep nude as his legs brushed up against the fabric of pyjama pants. It was such a silly thing to have been worried about, especially considering the daydreams he'd been sporting lately of what he _hoped_ would happen between them, but those were naïve. A man like Aomine Daiki didn't take fancies to boys like Kise Ryouta.

“Turn the heating up,” Aomine grumbled, tensely settling back down against his pillows, back squared firmly against the boy.

“N-no...” Kise murmured, tucking himself tighter up against the warmth offered by Aomine's body heat, “I just... can I-...?”

“Stay?” Aomine asked, his sleepy confusion apparent in the questioning tone of his voice.

“Yeah.”

Aomine shrugged and Kise was sure he had fallen back asleep almost immediately. The blond carefully snuggled down into a more comfortable position, his hands tucked into his chest. He waited a few moments, until it was apparent that Aomine's snores were those of a man deeply asleep in a comfortable slumber.

Kise promised himself he wouldn't feel disappointed if he wasn't ravished the moment he found himself in bed alongside Aomine. And truth be told, he wasn't. It was still kind of nice in it's own way. Just being near to someone like this was... cathartic. They both seemed to enjoy it because they both found themselves waking up far too late in to the morning than they had originally intended. They awoke almost reluctantly from a tentative spoon (at some point Kise must have rolled over and Aomine had followed). The blond was almost too cosy to notice the heavy arm draped over his wrist and the scent of Aomine's shampoo behind him.

That's how they woke up the next morning, and the morning after that... until it wasn't long before it was every night. They didn't talk about it, it just happened. Kise got the feeling that Aomine appreciated it almost as much as he did. And yet... he didn't make so much as a single move on Kise. The more Kise considered a more platonic relationship with Aomine, the more he felt as though he could certainly grow to love it. The way the older man treated him felt like something closer to familial than any kind of romantic. Maybe that's what Aomine had wanted all along. Maybe that's what Kise was supposed to give him...

Much to his surprise it wasn't... awkward. At all. One particularly balmy weekend they awoke, back to back and comfortable in their silence. They had brunch and got dressed and went downstairs like everything was normal and... it was. It felt good. Aomine took him to a music store, much to Kise's delight. They window shopped for ages, just talking and pointing out things they thought were cool. Kise had a chance to teach Aomine all about different instruments and musical trivia he'd picked up over the years and it felt good, _real good_ , to have a chance to finally give something back to the older man.

He was almost feeling like they were on the same page again until they returned home, weary and ready for a relaxing night at home. Kise swung the front door open and was greeted with an entirely rearranged lounge space. The TV and lounge and coffee table were all still there, but so too was the most beautiful, full sized harp Kise had ever seen. It was solid and gold and imposing with its gilded, carved frame. It looked like something from a renaissance painting. Near it was a music stand and a few other peripherals. Kise nearly burst into tears on the spot. This was _too much_. This was _too nice_ \- he just- he couldn't- he didn't know what to do.

It was stressing him out – Aomine was nothing but generous and loving and kind and yet, there was _nothing_ Kise could do to repay him, ever. Kise was stunned silent for a moment until the older man spoke at his side, urging him closer to have a look.

“I consulted with a friend who knows a national orchestra conductor,” he said pleasantly, scanning the blond's face intently for his reaction, “I told him you play... after the maid told me how diligently you've been practising alone in your room, of course... he recommended me a few things you might like.”

Kise choked on his own tongue as tears sprung to his eyes.

“ _Thank you, Daddy_!” Kise blurted out suddenly.

The mood in the room shifted in an instant.

“What?” Aomine spoke just a little too quickly, unsure if he had even heard correctly.

“What?” Kise parroted, his heart hammering in his chest with the feeling he had done something very wrong as a light sweat broke out on his forehead and he took a step back, trying and failing to appear casual.

“What did you just say?” Aomine looked at the boy curiously.

“I just said... you... D-...Daddy?” Kise was bright red and staring at the floor, his lower lip between his teeth and a coil of hair twisted around his finger tips as he wrapped an arm around his own waist in a bid to make himself smaller.

“Huh?” was all Aomine could think of to reply.

He certainly hadn't expected this development but he couldn't say that it felt entirely... out of place.

“You haven't treated me at all like I thought you would,” Kise mumbled and Aomine felt a sudden lick of temper flare up the back of his throat.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, more aggressively than he intended because Kise recoiled and pulled tighter in on himself.

“I mean you haven't... you haven't tried to have s-sex with me...” he continued in a quiet voice that was growing ever quieter.

Aomine was struck with a pang of regret at his hurry to misinterpret the others' words. Carefully choosing his next words, he tried to lace them with as much soothing gentleness as he could.

“Does that upset you?”

Kise frowned to himself, still unwilling to meet the older man's eyes. He feared that if he looked up from the ground than any resolve he had to continue this conversation would disappear in a fraction of a second.

“Not really...” he replied honestly, “a little? I thought that's what you would want from me, but when you didn't make any... advances... I just thought.... I don't know, maybe _I_ was the one misinterpreting our relationship and it's more like... like a son or something you wanted from me.”

“Oh...”

A heavy pause fell in the air between them.

“You know it's not because I don't find you attractive, right?” Aomine knew one thing about delicate situations such as these and that was that reassurance on all fronts was his greatest friend.

Kise nodded mutely.

“It's just that I have had a lot going o-”

“Why would you buy a _prostitute_ then, if you didn't plan on having sex with them?”

Aomine was so taken aback by Kise's sudden bold interruption that he bit the tip of his tongue. The blond boy looked terrified of speaking out of turn, but pressed on regardless.

“Why does it matter that much to you?”

“You could have taken in any other person you wanted to, but you came to a _brothel_ and bought a _whore_ whom you have _never_ made any move on despite that being their _entire purpose_ and now you're going to tell me that you didn't set this up to be a mentoring relationship either?”

Kise sounded frustrated, exasperated, a bitter edge to his tongue that Aomine had never heard before.

“I never meant to upset you,” Aomine said calmly, stepping forward to put a hand on the young boy's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Kise allowed him to, shrinking under his touch though his face remained resolutely distressed.

“What would you have me do?” he said sourly, staring at a spot on Aomine's lapel instead of his face.

“Whatever you want to, Ryouta, I haven't figured this out yet either-”

“Well, I can't _clean_ , and I can't _fuck you_ and I'm just trying to make you happy-”

“I'm not-”

“-AND you don't seem all that interested in actually listening to me play music or other talents and you just-”

“Ryouta-”

“-you paid a ridiculous amount of money for me and I have no way of repaying you because you won't let me do anything! Do you expect me to just stand around and look pretty?! Because if so, _tell me_ and that's JUST what I'll do-!”

Aomine tried to reach towards Kise, to comfort him, but the boy recoiled as though burned.

“What do you want me to say to you?” Aomine clicked his tongue testily, growing irritated by this shameless display.

“I-.... I don't know! Something! Anything! Tell me how to make you happy!”

“Ryouta, you're not here to _serve_ me, you don't exist to do what I tell you.”

“Oh yeah!?” Kise was beginning to redden in anger and his fists were balled at his sides, “then why won't you tell me why you bought me?! Why won't you fuck me?! Why can't I do ANYTHING RIGHT?!”

“Ryouta, _please_ -”

“ **I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME!!”**

Kise's cracked yell echoed in Aomine's mind more than it did the room itself and the blond gasped, and shuddered into tears, covering his mouth in horror at the unexpected outburst. Aomine was stunned, frozen in place as the blond dissolved into a fit of noisy, wet tears.

“... _Jesus_...” Aomine cemented his hands to his hips, cursing softly under his breath.

It was in that moment he truly knew that Kise was just a _child_. A boy. Half his age. The world was still new and terrifying and confusing to this kid from a backwater town in the middle of nowhere who was just beginning to forge his identity in an admittedly strange and rapidly changing world. He had made some commitment to a certain lifestyle as nothing more than a doe eyed teenager wishing on a whim for a better future than the one he was born with. It was sad. It was scary. What if he didn't want to do this anymore? What kind of position would that put Aomine in? While he wasn't exactly a paragon of morality, he certainly wasn't about to keep Kise here against his will. But then again, he didn't like the idea of wasting so much money... a man like him didn't get into the financial position he did by being careless. It was troubling territory to traverse inside of his own head and he really would have rather not even had to consider the possibilities.

Everything was always more complicated than he banked on.

Kise dismissed himself without a word, his face set in stone. He wouldn't answer when Aomine knocked on his locked door. He wouldn't answer when Aomine tried hopefully to text him. He didn't hear so much as a peep from Kise all evening. Not until he was climbing into bed, and the door swung open behind him.

Without a word, the blond slipped into the room and into bed alongside of him. He wouldn't meet his eyes, and he wouldn't acknowledge what happened earlier, but it hung over them both like a heavy smog.

“Thank you for the harp,” he muttered sullenly, breaking the ice.

“You're welcome...” Aomine sighed, settling down woodenly alongside the blond, “let's talk tomorrow, okay? You can be mad at me if you wish, but give me a chance to talk to you.”

Kise hmmph'd in the affirmative.

“Thank you,” was all Aomine said in return.

There was tension in the air but it almost felt as though neither of them really wanted to be mad at the other right now. Except they had to be. This wasn't the sort of thing you could just sweep under the rug... They still had a long way to go in terms of learning how to communicate with one another.

Except now they had a bigger problem on their hands.

Kise had called him Daddy and in a split second the entire tension between them changed. They had aired their grievances and the bond between them had grown just that little bit stronger... hopefully. Kise had called him Daddy... and it was with a great sense of dread and foreboding that Aomine admitted to himself in the dead of night, Kise curled at his side in bed, that he _kind of liked it_.

No, not just in a fatherly way.

He _like-liked_ it.

 _Daddy_... it had a nice ring to it.

This wasn't going to be as easy a fix as he thought.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is kind of in permanent limbo/hiatus/pergatory... I want to finish it, but I had no idea where I was going with it. Who knows, maybe I'll get a stroke of inspiration and finish it one day but I'm not gonna orphan it because it's still an important part of my back catalogue. 
> 
> Just a reminder that you can see more of my shit in the following places:
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> Just a reminder that you can see more of my shit in the following places:
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> Did you enjoy this fic? Chuck me a comment (even if it's just a single, solitary grunt) and you will fill me with such pride and vanity and appreciation I will have no choice but to write more and update more regularly to soak up more of that sweet, sweet recognition. It's that simple!


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